


Five Times Sam and Jack got Accidentally Married (And One Time They Didn't)

by purplejellosg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Angst and Romance, F/M, Five Times, Humour, Hurt and comfort, Little bit of angst, Married Couple, Ranges from Season 1 to Season 8, Romance, Sam/Jack UST, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26091934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejellosg1/pseuds/purplejellosg1
Summary: Getting married off-world, by accident, is surprisingly easy...
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 52
Kudos: 114





	1. Trading Wives

It wasn’t until Daniel was sat in his office writing his report, consulting the textbooks he’d insisted he needed to be paid for by the SGC’s budget to supplement his already impressive collection, that he realised the true significance of the events of the team’s mission to Simarka.

He triple and quadruple checked the references, the furrow in his brow growing deeper as every textbook and online resource he consulted confirmed the theory he’d developed as being fact. Though there were some differences between the Mongols of Earth and the Shavadai tribes of P3x593, the similarities between the Mongol’s history and the Shavadai’s present were uncanny.

Trade between tribes was what kept their communities strong, and trading women as property was common. A leader of the tribe could have many, many wives, as could any male member of his tribe with the blessing of the tribe leader. Women of the Shavadai, Daniel knew, had little to no rights, and while he’d been as frustrated by that as Sam had been, he hadn’t been in any position to change it.

Unlike Sam, he reflected, though how long the change would last, he wasn’t sure. 

And that brought his mind back to his unfortunate discovery.

At first, he wondered if he should just pretend he hadn’t realised. Ignorance was bliss, or so it was said. But his conscience wouldn’t let him, and he sought out Teal’c to find out if the Jaffa’s interpretation matched his own.

Teal’c, a man of many words, simply read the textbook Daniel gave him, handed it back with a ‘I concur, Daniel Jackson’ and went back to his quarters to meditate.

Left alone in the hallway, an internal debate waged within him.

Should he tell Jack first?

Sam?

Neither?

There was a reason the term ‘shoot the messenger’ had been carried on through the years and Daniel didn’t particularly want to find out if it would be true at the SGC.

It might’ve made him a coward, but Daniel decided to take the easier route. Or what he thought was the easier route.

He took his report and his textbook and went to see General Hammond.

#

All he’d wanted was one last assignment where he could make a difference before finally hanging up the dress blues and retiring.

He hadn’t thought for one moment that Stargate Command would be a quiet base to oversee; he’d known from his first briefing that taking over from General West wasn’t going to be a piece of cake, especially not when it became very evident very fast that the threat of an alien invasion was very, very possible.

Aliens, George thought, he had prepared for. As unbelievable as it would have been to him a year, six months before, he’d come to accept it as part and parcel of his last assignment.

Two officers on his flagship team, one of whom he’d recently decided to make his Second in Command of the whole damn base, unknowingly getting married off world was not a problem he thought he’d had.

The only comfort he could take from the situation was that, given the outrage on both of their faces as he told them of Doctor Jackson’s findings, was that they, too, were as shocked as he was.

Shocked, yes, but George did his best to ignore the speculative look Colonel O’Neill shot the young Captain with a glimmer of interest and the answering blush that began to rise up Captain Carter’s neck.

“Are you sure that’s right, Sir? Married? Us?” Jack motioned between the two of them, though they were the only others in the office, George himself notwithstanding. “Daniel could’ve got something lost in translation, y’know.”

“I’ve read your reports, and the supplementary information provided by Doctor Jackson. There is no mistake, Colonel. When you traded your service weapon for Captain Carter, you effectively traded the gun for one of Turghan wives, thus making her your wife.” And didn’t the thought of that give him a headache. Or at least the thought of the paperwork he was going to have to fill out–once it’d been created, of course.

“But I wasn’t one of Turghan’s wives,” Sam protested weakly. At the stony look George through her way, she dropped her gaze. “Well, he’d said to Abu he was thinking about it, and then I was sent to be with his other wives but his daughter was there, too.”

“I think it’s reasonable to presume you were there as a wife, and not as a daughter, Captain,” George found himself saying wryly. “Besides, you were clearly considered to be property of Turghan, and then you became the property of Colonel O’Neill when he traded the gun for you. The closest interpretation is that the act of trade symbolises the act of marriage, therefore you are married. For now,” he added when both Jack and Sam looked like they were about to protest. “Of course we will get the marriage annulled. I assume that is what you both want?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Of course, Sir.”

He told himself it wasn’t interesting in the slightest that the two officers suddenly had difficulty looking at one another.

#

Married.

Married to Colonel O’Neill.

ARGH!

Okay, so the idea wasn’t entirely repulsive–he was an attractive man, one of the more attractive men on base, but he was her superior officer, her commanding officer, and IT WAS AGAINST REGULATIONS.

Not to mention the fact he’d BOUGHT her hand in marriage, TRADED a bloody GUN for it.

Unintentionally at that!

Putting aside her conflicted feelings regarding her Commanding Officer, Sam couldn’t get over the thought that’d she’d been considered worthless. Nothing. Less than nothing. She’d been a thing, something to own and be given away at will, stripped of any value.

Stripped of any worth, of any rights.

And that... that was humiliating. Frustrating. Hurtful.

Oh, she didn’t think there was anyone on the base who thought there was any merit in the Shavadai way of life, but it was still hurtful that her teammates had done their best to encourage her to go along with it–an act that had led with her being abducted and traded - twice–for crying out loud. And it was humiliating that no doubt the whole base would be talking about it–the concept of classified was only valid when it came to speaking about the project outside of the hallowed walls of the SGC but inside, gossip wasn’t just confined to the water cooler. It was a coping mechanism of sorts, a way of normalising the craziness of every day life at the SGC. If you didn’t laugh about it, you’d cry, and that was exactly what Sam felt like doing.

She’d shut herself in her lab after the awkward meeting with General Hammond, and the promise that she’d sign whatever paperwork she needed to get their accidental marriage annulled ASAP. 

Married.

Her.

The closest she’d got before was an ill-fated, ill-thought out engagement to --

“Well, well, well.” 

\-- Jonas.

“I didn’t think you were the type to sleep your way up the ranks, Sam,” Captain Jonas Hanson smirked at her from the doorway of her lab. “Turns out I was wrong about that, huh?”

“Jonas.” She sighed his name, closing her eyes for a moment as she wished–prayed–that he’d just disappear. His assignment to the SGC had been approved while she’d been on Simarka and it had been a very unpleasant surprise to find her ex on base as the new commanding officer of the newly formed SG-9.

“Really, Sam? Is this your new game plan?” His smirk grew and he leaned against the doorway. “You really think you have to sleep your way to the top?” He tilted his head to one side. “Is that why you dumped me?”

“Go away, Jonas.” Take the moral high road, Sam, she told herself firmly. 

“Aw, but Sammie...” Jonas pushed off the door frame and headed further into the lab instead of going away. “Don’t you want to talk options? I mean, Colonel O’Neill was a good choice, but he’s not your only choice. I’m team leader now, too. SG-9,” he added, as if she didn’t know. “If you want to go up in the world...”

“I don’t. And I don’t like the way this conversation is going, Jonas, so I’d really like it if you’d just go now.” She bit her lip against adding please; she would never, as long as she lived, beg him for anything ever again. 

For a moment, she thought he’d protest.

For a moment, she thought he thought he would, too.

But then her commanding officer–her husband - arrived, and Jonas thankfully decided there were other places he needed to be.

A short, awkward conversation later–the Colonel just wanted to check she was okay, what with the fighting for her life and then finding out she was married thing–and Sam was left alone once more.

Only... there was a smile on her face.

A smile she knew shouldn’t be there.

As far as would-be accidental husbands were concerned, she was sure she could have done worse than Colonel O’Neill.


	2. Hand Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another planet, another ceremony... Set sometime in season three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was pointed out that there was no need for the Shavadai marriage to be annulled as there was no paperwork etc. signed. I'm just gonna go with creative licence and the fact that Daniel's marriage to Sha're was recognised by Earth. Any off-world marriage or ceremony would, therefore, be deemed as legally binding in my (and the SGC's) eyes, and therefore would need some kind of acknowledgement to end it.

Another day, another mission.

Another really weird off-world ceremony that somehow he and Carter got dragged into.

Later, much later, he’d wondered how exactly Daniel and Teal’c got out of it. His teammates somehow didn’t get as involved in as many ceremonies and rituals as himself and Carter, and that was something that he decided needed to look into for the future.

In the present time, he was preoccupied with the ceremony himself and Carter were currently involved in, and the implications of it.

They’d been taken away to be dressed in the ceremonial garb the natives wore. Daniel–it was always Daniel–had encouraged them to go along with it, suggesting it would be offensive to the natives if they refused and since they wanted to keep on good terms with the friendly folk of P4x873 due to the tech they were willing to share, offending them was not a good idea.

So he and Carter were dressed up–thankfully in pretty normal clothes as far as alien planets went. Jack wore a pale cream tunic and loose tan coloured pants, while Carter was in a simple little shift dress thing the same colour as his top. The colour, uncomfortably reminiscent of a non-white wedding dress back on Earth–really suited her as did the subtle lines of the dress.

Not that Jack had noticed.

Of course not.

That was the type of thing he, as her Commanding Officer, was not supposed to notice.

Nope. Nada. Not at all.

(But he did notice. Just as he noticed the way the colour made her blue eyes pop the way the outfits they’d had to wear while undercover in Seth’s cult had. And he noticed the fit of the dress hinted at the curves that it concealed without being too obvious about it. And the length of it bared her legs to his gaze, which was something that usually only happened when she was in her Dress Blues and he noticed...)

“And now, Colonel Jack,” the Head Priestess smiled knowingly at him. Jack had the distinct impression that she could see a lot more than he was comfortable with her seeing. “You will place the garland on Major Samantha’s head, then will take this rope and wrap it around her wrist.”

The garland was a flower crown with a mixture of blooms that resembled daisies and sunflowers. Somehow, on Carter, they seemed to work. He took the garland from the High Priestess and was very careful to avoid looking Sam in the eye as he carefully placed it on top of her blond head. Next was the rope, which was really a thick ribbon again laced with the same kind of flowers. He was careful to wrap it loosely around her wrist–not too loose that it would come undone but not too tight that it would be abrasive against the delicate skin.

“Good, that’s good.” The High Priestess beamed in approval. “Now, Major Samantha. You must take the other end of the rope and tie it around Colonel Jack’s wrist.”

Colour rose in Carter’s cheeks, and he noticed she was doing her best to avoid looking at his face, too. He knew she was as grateful as he that the attention of the village wasn’t solely focused on them; there were many undergoing the same ceremonial rite but, as outsiders, they had the attention of the High Priestess who led them through the stages of the ceremony.

Daniel had queried if it was a marriage rite; the High Priestess hadn’t understood the term. She’d explained it was a ceremony to affirm the friendship between the couples and their commitment to supporting one another through life’s ups and downs. When it was put that way, and the nature of the Commanding Officer/Second in Command relationship was explained to the High Priestess, she had beamed at them and said they would be perfectly suited to the ceremony. 

Now, most of the way through it, Jack wasn’t so sure.

It certainly had a whiff of wedding about it to him.

He held himself still as Carter wound the ribbon around his wrist and tied it loosely. He could see her hands tremble slightly, and told himself she was just as uncomfortable with the High Priestess’s scrutiny as he was.

Or maybe it was just that she, like he, was already thinking how the hell they were going to explain this to General Hammond...

“You are now united,” the High Priestess declared after laying her own hands over theirs. “May you be blessed by the spirits and be forever secure in your union.”

All around them, the newly united couples smiled at one another. Most of them, Jack noticed because he was determinedly not looking at Carter, began to kiss.

Awk-ward.

The High Priestess looked at them expectantly for a moment, then smiled knowingly as they continued to avoid one another’s gaze. “You will need to remain bound until sunrise,” she advised. “Once the suns have risen, you are free to release the ties that bind you, as they will remain in a spiritual sense, unseen but always felt.”

“Great. That sounds... great.” Jack managed, his smile polite but forced. His mind was already racing ahead, trying to figure out how he and Carter were possibly going to get any sleep if they had to stay tied up all night. 

Tied up... with Carter... All night...

His brain was certainly going places it shouldn’t be, so Jack turned to locate their teammates. His eyes narrowed at the grin on Daniel’s face, and the blank but somehow amused expression on Teal’c’s. Neither of them were going to be any help, he was sure.

Without thinking, he took a step towards them, realising belatedly that the ribbon binding his wrist to Carter’s really wasn’t that long. 

Oh, yeah. 

Oops.

His 2IC had to keep close to his side so they could walk without losing their balance. After two near missteps, Jack took the initiative and laced their hands together to make it easier. Carter didn’t say anything, but returned his grip. Thankfully, the distance back to their camp was short, the ground was pretty even, and Daniel took point so didn’t notice.  
Teal’c did, though, and it was he who suggested moving their sleeping bags closer together so they could lie with the ribbon around their wrist; Jack argued that they were out of sight of the village so surely they could take it off.

“We shouldn’t really risk that, Jack,” Daniel said after exchanging a glance with Teal’c. “Someone might come by in the morning with breakfast like they have the last couple of mornings, and we really don’t --”

“Want to offend them, we know,” Jack finished, rolling his eyes. “Is their technology really worth all this? The dress-up and the play pretend and the really weird bondage?”

There was a pause as he–and they–realised what he’d said.

“It’s rare to make allies who are willing to share their technology, Sir,” Carter pointed out after the silence went on a little too long to be comfortable. She had been the one who’d recommended the alliance and the trade, after all. For the most part, their worlds were quite similar but the natives had demonstrated some amazing advanced medical technology that she knew would be welcomed back at the SGC.

“Right.” He huffed a sigh, and motioned–with the hand that wasn’t tied to hers–to the log that had been serving as a seating area next to the fire. “We might as well take first and second watch. Teal’c, you’re third, then Daniel.”

It was an uncomfortable night, both sitting on the log on watch trying not to reference the giant elephant in the room and when it came to actually settling down for the night. By silent agreement, they decided that they would never mention that they’d resumed the hand-holding by the campfire–for the sole reason it was more comfortable –and they would never, ever go into details about the nightmare that was trying to afford each other the privacy they needed when it came to answering the call of nature before crashing out on their sleeping bags.

They slept on their backs, closer than usual, joined hands on the ground between them. When they woke with their fingers entwined once again, it was another thing that wouldn’t be mentioned in their official mission reports.

God knew General Hammond was going to have enough to contend with on hearing that they might’ve somehow managed to get married again...


	3. Eat, Drink, and Be Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was relatively simple; don't let anyone touch the goblet.

Eat, drink, and be merry, they said.

Eat, drink, and get married was not part of the plan.

The ceremony was explained to them in great detail; the Village Leaders wanted no misunderstandings and made it clear that SG1 had stumbled on the planet doing their annual marriage rites.

Unlike a lot of planets they’d been to, on this one, the women had some semblance of control and choice. Well, kind of. Each woman of marriable age was given a goblet of ceremonial wine and were - supposedly - in control of who they got to share it with.

Supposedly.

There were some blurred rules about that which Jack didn’t like the sound of. Previously married women had the choice of offering their goblet to their existing husband should they wish the union to continue; if they didn’t, they got to offer it to someone else.

Single women got to offer it to someone of their choosing but, if there was no one they were specifically interested in, it was fair game and down to them or their male relatives to ensure the goblet remained untouched until morning or she might find herself married against her will.

“So we’re agreed,” Jack said to his teammates as they sat down at the table reserved for them as guests of honour. “Anyone goes near Carter’s goblet, we shoot them.”

“Yes, Sir,” Sam said, amusement and a little apprehension on her face. She’d been on too many of these missions to know they rarely went as smoothly as anticipated.

“I will guard it with my life,” Teal’c agreed, though the corners of his mouth twitched a little. The goblet was as much in front of Jack as it was Sam, and it would be a brave man who ignored the Colonel’s death glare and so much as attempted to touch the ornate cup.

For the most part, the men of Daleria were respectful of the strangers strange customs and kept a respectful distance. But there were a few who were enamoured by Sam’s unusual colouring and undeniable attractiveness, and they were emboldened as the alcohol continued to flow well into the night. A couple of the more devious men attempted to get near Sam’s goblet as the night continued by engaging the team in conversation, hoping they’d distract them long enough for the cup to be accessed. One succeeded in distracting Daniel - that wasn’t really hard to do - but none of them counted on the unshakeable force that was Colonel Jack O’Neill.

The first man who tried to get near the goblet ended up on the receiving end of one of Jack’s death glares. It was a glare he reserved for politicians, and anyone who tried to hurt any member of his team.

The second almost brushed his fingers over the stem of the cup, but found his wrist caught in the vice-like grip of the Black Ops trained Colonel. Sam watched out of the corner of her eye, deciding not to make it obvious in case she had to deny seeing anything. She winced on behalf of the man, though, and hoped his wrist was just bruised or sprained and not broken.

The third man didn’t try to be sneaky about it. He swaggered up to the table, have Sam a confident, cocky grin and held her gaze as he reached for the cup. It was Teal’c that time who grabbed his arm, and Jack who grinned smugly as the native paled and walked away, all traces of his earlier swagger gone.

The fourth man Sam dealt with herself. As amused as she was with the overprotective display from her teammates, she felt the need to make it abundantly clear that she didn’t need anyone to protect her - or her goblet. She was pretty sure she managed to break the nose of the creepy man who stuck up from behind them, snaking his arm through the small space between herself and Jack, in his quest to sip from the cup. She jerked her arm back, her elbow meeting his nose with a crunch she found as satisfying as it was sickening.

The fifth man Daniel stopped in his tracks. Well, Daniel caught on to the tactic of distracting them through conversation and decided to turn it back on the next guy who approached the travellers. Almost an hour later, the man left in search of a much needed drink.

Sam’s goblet, and by association her hand in marriage, remained untouched for the majority of the night. As the sun began to rise, the ceremony began to draw to a close. A final meal was served, including a dish that looked like pancakes drenched in syrup but was, on tasting, decidedly hotter than anticipated and no where near as a sweet.

Jack was the one to try it first, and the one to regret it.

He reached for the nearest drink to him and had downed half of the contents before the sudden silence of his teammates struck him as being odd.

Glancing at his hand and the cup still clasped in it, Jack closed his eyes. “Ah, crap.”

There was another moment of silence, broken by Sam’s sigh. Jack opened his eyes to look at her, catching a glimpse of her slightly upturned lips as she shrugged. He glanced at Teal’c and found him staring back with an arched eyebrow. And then there was Daniel, a gleeful grin on his face.

Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter returned through the Stargate, newlyweds once more.


	4. Dance of the Newlyweds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after Abyss in season six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the slight changes to the tags. It's getting a little bit angsty now... It wasn't intentional, but the later into the seasons we go, the angstier things tend to get between our lovely couple.

The mission was run of the mill, the people peaceful. SG-11 had already visited the planet and established relations, so it was a standard ‘keeping in touch’ mission that General Hammond thought would be safe and simple. Perfect for SG-1, who were in need of something quiet.

It was the first mission following Jack’s return from his Tok’ra implantation and time as Ba’al’s unwilling guest. He’d been fighting Doc Fraiser’s recommendations that he needed more time, had given MacKenzie the answers the shrink wanted to hear instead of going into his experiences in any depth and had camped out in Hammond’s office until his Commanding Officer had reluctantly agreed.

What Jack didn’t know was that the planet was specifically chosen for being friendly–and safe. Sam had come up with a list of places that were due a revisit, and had discussed them with General Hammond until they were both happy they’d chosen one where the team could go, do something useful, but otherwise stay out of harm's way. Though Sam had done so with Jack in mind, still struggling with guilt over her own role in his imprisonment, General Hammond had agreed with her for all of SG-1’s sakes.

The villagers were happy to see them, welcoming in fact. Instead of having to make camp, a hut in the village was made available so they could stay and join in with the village festivities. For once, Jack didn’t complain that they’d arrived slap bang in the middle of some sort of yearly rite of passage, and Jonas equalled if not overtook the late Daniel Jackson in enthusiasm for being able to observe–and maybe take part–in the events. Even Teal’c seemed pleased; he kept alert to protect his teammates, but did nothing to dampen their enthusiasm.

Tired and relieved, Sam sat on the cot that had been assigned to her, wondering if she could summon up the energy to venture outside to where the music had already begun to play. She could hear laughter and voices, and found herself smiling at the happiness of these people even if she found she couldn’t share it herself. The smile slipped as she remembered why she couldn’t share it, and she squeezed her eyes closed to keep the stinging in her eyes from becoming actual tears.

No more, she told herself. She’d cried enough–and would no doubt cry again. But later, when she was home. 

Where there was no risk of one of her teammates finding her.

She took a moment more, forcing her shoulders to relax, breathing deeply. She just had to compose herself, and then she could go, put on a smile and keep an eye on the Colonel to make sure he managed to relax a little.

“You in here, Carter? The natives are getting restless.” As if he’d heard her thoughts, Jack appeared in the doorway, knocking belatedly on the door frame. While he looked absolutely fine to anyone who didn’t know him, Sam knew different and fought back a flinch at the shadows in his eyes. 

“The natives, Sir?” Deciding to play along, she stood up and smoothed down the floaty material of the dress she’d been gifted for the party. It was one of the prettier ones she’d been asked to wear, and since they were there to cement their continued friendship with the planet’s occupants, she hadn’t objected. 

“Jonas, mainly,” he corrected with a slight grin. The Kelownan was growing on him. “He wants to get the party started, but won’t until the gang’s all there.”

“I was just getting ready,” Sam lied, knowing he’d see through it. “But I’m done now.”

As if to check, he ran his gaze over her from head to toe. From the sandals she’d been given, to the dress, to the the flower she had tucked behind her ear. The slight grin grew and he inclined his head. “That you are. Shall we?”

She fought the blush that rose in her cheeks and let him lead her from the room and out of the hut where the party was indeed in full swing.

#

An hour or two later, the festivities were still going strong. Jonas had been swept up in them, and was talking to anyone and everyone, determined to find out everything he could about the annual gathering and what it meant to the villagers. Sam and Jack sat side by side, observing from a respectful distance while still being close enough to feel involved. Teal’c sat on the outskirts of the gathering, a small smile on his face as he watched his teammates partake of the offerings.

“You okay, Carter?” Jack asked after a long, companionable silence, his voice quiet but just loud enough for her to hear above the music. 

“Should I not be asking you that, Sir?” The response left her before she could think about it. She stifled a sigh and kept her gaze resolutely on the dancing taking part around the large village campfire. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“For what?”

For everything, she thought. Sam took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him. “I’m sorry for asking you to take the symbiote.”

He blinked, surprised at her candour. “So you’re sorry for asking me to save my life?”

“No, just the means in which you had to do it.” Guilt surged up inside her again, and she thought of everything he’d been through since that fateful moment in which she’d all but begged him. “And what happened as a result.”

“Not your fault, Major. None of it.” He nudged her side when she wouldn’t look at him. “Carter... If I hadn’t taken Kanan, I wouldn’t be here.”

“But Kanan was more Goa’uld than Tok’ra. He forced you to do things, he’s responsible for you being captured by Ba’al --”

“Yes, Sam. He’s responsible. Not you.” His gaze was intense, the shadows giving way momentarily to something else, something more familiar but just as upsetting for her. Feelings they shouldn’t feel, longings they couldn’t act on. “I don’t blame you. I never had.”

“Maybe you should do, though.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, staring passed the dancers to the flickering flames. “You did it because of me.”

That, he couldn’t deny. If anyone else had asked him, he wasn’t sure the answer would’ve been yes. Instead of lying to her, he got to his feet. Sam was convinced he was going to walk away, having realised she spoke the truth. She wasn’t expecting him to extend a hand to her, pulling her to her feet when she took it.

Without a word, he led her to the fire and the dancing couples. The music had slowed considerably, the couples swaying closer as the laughter died down and a quieter, more intimate feeling descended over the village. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and clutched her hand in his, close to his heart. Willingly–too willingly, perhaps–Sam melted against him, her own arm going around his middle as she let her head rest on his shoulder. 

They swayed to the alien beat, their eyes closed, hearts beating between them. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to. They rarely needed to when it came to what was important, and what regulations forbid them from voicing out loud.

On the other side of the village, Jonas joined Teal’c in watching them. He glanced at the Jaffa who seemed pleased and bit his lip.

“Ah, Teal’c?”

“Yes, Jonas Quinn?”

“I was speaking with Mariska, the leader of the village, and she was telling me that there’s a reason a lot of people sit this dance out. Apparently, it’s the reason they do this every year,” Jonas started to babble. “It’s a way of couples signifying their commitment, their devotion to one another above all others. In essence, it’s kind of a marriage ritual. So...” he motioned to Sam and Jack with his head. “Don’t you think we should tell them?”

Teal’c tilted his head, studying the peaceful expressions on the faces of his two friends. “Indeed, Jonas Quinn. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Jonas repeated. He, too, studied his teammates, and realised he hadn’t seen them looking quite so content in all the time that he’d known them. “Tomorrow it is.”  



	5. Tongue Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation and a kiss. Set season 7, sometime after Grace & Chimera.

A kiss could mean a lot of things.

An innocent gesture of affection, a peck on the cheek.

A parent's kiss on the forehead of a child, soothing and reassuring.

A first kiss, romantic in nature, tentative and unsure but hopeful all the same.

An angry kiss, when words spoken in anger and frustration needed to be silenced.

A hungry kiss, lovers in the heady throes of passion and desire.

A kiss of longing, of tenderness, of sweet affirmation.

There were a lot of kisses, a lot of meanings behind them, and that was just on Earth.

The mission was to be one of Jack and Sam's last as Colonel and Major respectively, though they didn't know that at the time. It was first contact meeting with a people of a planet they would later learn was Hanandra, people who had come out of their homes to greet the MALP that had come through the Stargate in the heart of their village. These people didn't fear the Goa'uld or indeed any travellers through the stone ring. All were welcome on Hanandra, the address of which had been gained from Colonel O'Neill's head when he'd downloaded the knowledge of the Ancients.

In fact, it was cause for celebration. They insisted on welcoming the newcomers, and had no problem with sharing their knowledge and their food with SG-1. Daniel was in his element, having been granted full access to the town's archive, with hundreds and thousands of records dating back to the first settlers who had been brought from Earth through the Stargate by an alien race determined to protect them. Asgard or Ancient, Daniel was sure and determined to find out.

Teal'c was wary, but at the same time accepting of the hospitality of their hosts. It was rare to receive such a warm welcome and, while he hadn't yet determined that there wasn't an underlying reason for it, he was pleased that he and his companions wouldn't need to fight for their lives on this occasion.

Sam was a little on the bored side; though it was nice to be welcome, the race wasn't as technologically advanced as Earth so there wasn't much she could sink her teeth into or at least distract herself with. And a distraction was something she felt she needed.

Jack, meanwhile, was more than a little on the bored side. He'd tried bugging Daniel, but he'd been too engrossed in his research to rise to the bait. Teal'c had sat silently beside him, listening to him ramble on but hadn't responded, which was absolutely no fun for the frustrated Colonel. That left Sam, who was taking soil samples for something to do, but he was strangely reluctant to approach his Second.

Something had changed between them. No, something had shifted. He thought he'd pinpointed it to her hooking up with the cop from Denver but when he thought about it more–and he thought about it a lot more than he would ever admit–the more sure he was that whatever it was had taken place after her mission aboard the Prometheus. She'd been different with him after that, a little more guarded.

And he didn't like it.

He didn't like it one bit.

But, as with most things between the two of them, they opted not to talk about it. Unlike usual, though, they seemed to have lost their ability to talk about such things without words, and he felt that loss keenly. Oh, in the field, they could still read one another's silent signals but on a personal level, the knowledge that they shared something deeper was gone.

And what he wouldn't give to get that back.

Instead of joining her, he settled for watching her covertly. If anyone said anything, he'd defend his actions by explaining he was just watching her six. (And what a six it was...) But it was because he was watching her, he noticed her give up on collecting her samples. He watched her wander to the outskirts of the town and followed at a discreet distance, holding back as she settled herself on the bank of the town's river.

His Carter sense was tingling; there was something wrong with her, but he didn't know what, nor did he feel like he had a right to intrude. As her Commanding Officer, sure. He had the right to know what was going on with her if he thought it might jeopardise the well-being of the team, but as her friend... Well, he wasn't sure that would be appropriate any more.

As he debated what to do –he could always go and drag Daniel from his precious books–he saw something that broke his heart and his resolve. Narrowing his eyes as if doubting what he'd seen, he watched her lift her hand to her cheek again and wipe away another tear.

Damn it.

Carter tears were his weakness. Or one of them. Anything Carter-being-upset-or-in-trouble was a weakness of his, and he knew it. Swearing under his breath, he closed the short distance between them and sat down beside her. Giving her a moment, he said nothing, letting her regain her composure.

They sat listening to the river and the sounds of village life, the tension building to palpable levels between them. The longer they went without speaking, the harder it was to break the silence.

"Sir -"

"Carter -"

An awkward pause, more silence.

"You okay, Carter?" Jack tried again after a long moment.

"Fine, Sir," her response was automatic.

"Yeah. Sure." He held out for another minute. "There's something going on. With you, us. I can't fix it if I don't know what I've done, Carter."

"What you've done?" She was genuinely startled, and turned to face him. "You've not done anything wrong, Sir."

"Really? 'Cause that's not the impression I'm getting." He fidgeted with the cover on his watch. "Something happened," he said, deciding there was no harm in just coming out with it. It wasn't like things could get any more awkward between them, was it? "When you were aboard the Prometheus, or maybe when you got back. I did something."

"You didn't," she protested, falling silent when he held up a hand to stop her.

"Something happened, Carter. You've been distant ever since, and I think I have a right to know why."

#

She couldn't decide if he was upset, angry or hurt. Probably a combination of the three, and she couldn't blame him for it, either.

But how could she explain it without humiliating herself? How could she reassure him that it was okay–just because he didn't have those kind of feelings for her anymore, it didn't mean that he'd done anything wrong and she would–was trying–to get over her own?

Oh, she'd tried to deny it to herself. She'd tried putting a bit of distance between them after her hallucinations onboard the ship; she'd needed to come to terms with her subconscious's revelation that he was and always would be unobtainable, and after she'd done that, she'd come to realise that maybe the reason her mind had tried telling her that was because it had recognised what her heart hadn't: that he was no longer interested in one day, someday, pursuing what was–had been–between them.

So she'd thrown herself into her relationship with Pete, agreeing to the first date at her brother's encouragement and going along with it because it felt like the normal thing to do.

Except it might be normal, but it wasn't making her happy.

He wasn't making her happy.

But if settling for something less than what she wanted was the only way she could have the career she loved and the comfort she craved of someone to go home to, then she'd force herself to be content with it. She couldn't have Jack–Colonel O'Neill–even if he had still wanted her.

"I came to a realisation," she said eventually, knowing he wouldn't leave until she told him something. "I... When I said in my report that I had hallucinations that helped me figure out what to do, I wasn't lying. But they weren't only just about the problem aboard the Prometheus. I had some... personal... insights, too. I'm just trying to deal with them."

"Personal insights," he repeated after a moment. "And this has something to do with me?"

Her laugh was short and surprised, her expression a little incredulous as she turned to glance at him again. "Do you really want to talk about this, Sir?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

"But that's not what we do," she argued. "We don't talk about it, we never have."

His eyes narrowed at the thinly veiled accusation in her voice. "It was your choice to leave it in the room, Carter, not mine."

"My choice?"

"Yes!"

"I suggested it," she conceded, her own eyes narrowing as she remembered that conversation in that room. "You didn't have to agree to it."

"I agreed because I thought that was what you wanted!" The volume of his voice rose, frustration and anger building up as he, too, remembered that conversation.

"I suggested it because it was what you wanted!"

"No, it wasn't," he said softly, hurt brown eyes locking with flashing blue. "It never was."

"But it is now? Because there's no point in taking it out of the room if there's nothing left."

He stiffened at her words and she didn't miss the hurt expression that crossed over his face. "Well, if that's the way you feel about it, Carter -"

"No, Sir." Her sigh stopped him from moving, the tear that he glimpsed fall from her eye even as she turned her face away caused him to freeze. "It's the way you feel about it."

"How I feel about it? How would you know how I feel? We don't talk about this stuff, Carter."

"Exactly." She drew her legs up to her chest and let her chin rest on her knees. "We don't talk about it, because there's nothing left to talk about."

#

If she hadn't sounded so sad about it, he would have walked away. He would have taken her words to mean there was nothing left to talk about it because her feelings for him had changed, but her words and her actions didn't seem to be saying the same thing.

"What did you see on the Prometheus, Sam?" His use of her first name caused her shoulders to tense, but she didn't look at him, nor did she answer. "Whatever you saw, or thought you saw... You know that was all in your head, don't you? You can't hold me responsible for whatever that was." He waited a beat, before sighing and shuffling a little closer to her. "Talk to me, Carter. Please."

Though she didn't speak for the longest time, she did lean in. Their arms went from brushing one another to being a constant pressure, and it would just take the slightest shift of her head to let it rest on his shoulder. "I... You were there, my Dad, Daniel, Teal'c... At one time or another you were all there giving me some kind of advice or shove in the right direction."

"I don't know what kind of advice my hallucinated counterpart gave you but if it's anything like the real me, I wouldn't be so sure it was the right direction," he said wryly.

"It's not just that, Sir. Things have been..." She sighed again. "It's okay if your feelings have changed. I understand. I just need a little time -"

"Woah, woah, woah. Carter. Sam." He frowned and stared at her, quirking an eyebrow when she eventually looked at him. "My feelings? You're the one dating the cop. Wait." His frown turned into an incredulous look. "You think I don't...? And that's why you're dating the cop?"

"Well, I..." Tongued tied and at a loss for what to say, Sam was saved from needing to think of something by the feeling of Jack's hand in her hair. She heard him mutter a 'for crying out loud' under his breath seconds before his lips slanted across hers and then she lost all ability to do anything but feel.

The kiss was, well, everything. Desperate, uncertain, hungry, passionate. She twisted so she could return it with equal fervour, hand lifting to his face, fingers carding through his hair as his hands tugged at her, pulling her impossibly closer.

The kiss she'd imagined was no comparison to what it was like to actually kiss him, and be kissed by him, no viruses involved and regulations be damned.

Regulations.

Damn.

Damn.

They were both breathing heavily when they parted, both staring at the other with glazed over eyes.

Sam blinked and her vision cleared in an instant. She suddenly saw all the feelings she'd told herself were no longer there reflected back at her in his eyes. After a moment, Jack began to smile.

Their silent communication was back, and stronger than ever.

#

"So, they threw you a party to welcome you to the planet," General Hammond summarised, deftly cutting Daniel off when the archaeologist paused amidst his lengthy explanation about the culture and people of Hanandra. "Can I safely assume there were no rituals and no underlying meaning to the festivities that I should be aware of?" This was aimed at the command duo of the unit; he didn't think he'd imagined something different between the Colonel and the Major when they'd come back through the Stargate but, as of yet, not one of his flagship team had asked to have a word in private.

"No, Sir," Jack said cheerily. "It was just a party, but a damn good one if I do say so. They know how to make their guests feel welcome!"

"Indeed," Teal'c added. "The people of Hanandra were most hospitable."

"They don't have a traditional marriage ceremony," Daniel chimed in, trying to be helpful but missing Sam's blush and Jack's eye roll. "They don't believe in making a big fuss when it comes to choosing a life partner, though they do have certain customs in order to claim one. For example, my research shows that in order to be considered married on Hanandra, all you need to do is to kiss your chosen in sight of the river. It's symbolic, actually. Water symbolises fertility, life and cleansing. It's the same in many cultures here on Earth, so I believe it was probably derived from some form of -"

"Daniel. Focus. A kiss by the river means you're married on Hanandra?"

Daniel didn't notice Jack's sudden interest in the Hanandran culture but George did, and had his suspicions about it. "Yes, essentially. It means you're choosing to cleanse yourself of your former life, a rebirth of such but in partnership with your chosen life partner."

As Daniel continued to talk, General Hammond watched Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter closely. They weren't paying their teammate any attention, either, and were instead doing that unnerving thing of holding an entire conversation without saying a word.

"Thank you, Doctor Jackson," George interrupted at what he hoped was a suitable place to bring the briefing to a close. "I look forward to reading all about it in your mission report. Colonel, Major," he continued, fixing the two officers at the table with a speculative glance. "Do you have anything you wish to add?"

Again, the duo exchanged a look. As one, they turned back to General Hammond.

"No, Sir," Sam said with a smile.

"Nothing to add here," Jack smirked.

George narrowed his eyes but let them get away with it. He was planning to retire soon anyway; then they'd be someone else's problem. "Dismissed."


	6. I Do, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One ultimatum later...

When General Hammond was transferred to Washington DC to take up the role of Head of Homeworld Security, and Doctor Weir left to take up the position of civilian commander of the Atlantis expedition, Jack was offered a promotion to Brigadier General and the position of Commander of the SGC.

To the surprise of everyone, he declined both.

At first, anyway.

After several–long, boring–conversations with the Joint Chiefs, General Hammond and even, on two occasions, the President himself, they eventually asked him in exasperation what they needed to do in order to get him to accept the promotion and the position.

There was only one condition, and that was that his marriage to one Major Samantha Carter that accidentally took place on the planet of Hanandra some five months ago be formally recognised.

Now, the request caused a lot of questions to be asked. Namely, how do you accidentally get married to your Second in Command, when it's wholly and completely against regulations. It was General Hammond who pointed out, with a grimace that spoke volumes as to the size of the headache he was experiencing, that it wasn't an all that uncommon occurrence. After all, to his count, Jack and Sam had been married–accidentally–at least four times previously that he could think of. At least being the operative term, as he and they had no way of knowing how many other accidental marriage ceremonies they'd taken part in over the years.

When asked why this time was different, Jack just shrugged and said they were tired of it happening and then unhappening. If no one knew about it, no one could make them complete the mountain of paperwork needed to first acknowledge and then dissolve the union.

When asked if the marriage had been consummated, he was adamant that it hadn't, nor would it be, until they were allowed legally without ramifications for either of their careers. He respected Carter too much for that, and she respected him. Not to mention they both respected the Air Force, despite the hardships they'd endured whilst serving.

One of the Joint Chiefs had asked if they'd known they were getting married at the time; Jack answered honestly and said no. He was just thankful no one asked what they'd had to do to be considered married, as he hadn't been looking forward to explaining a room full of men that he'd kissed his Second by the river on an alien planet. A kiss might just be a kiss, but it had still been against regulations at the time.

A review was called; Jack was excused from it as mission reports from the past seven plus years were gathered and poured over. They weren't so much looking for evidence of wrong-doing as they were evidence to prove the relationship between the pair had influenced the command team, and whether that influence had worked in Earth's favour or not.

In almost all cases, General Hammond stated, feeling the need to defend himself as much as his former people, it had.

He spoke in favour of the couple, acknowledging that while he was sure there were feelings between them, he had seen nothing to suggest they had had a detrimental effect on his flagship team. In fact, he attributed the closeness of the team as a whole as to their exceptional success rate when it came to preventing the destruction of Earth itself.

Missions reports were highlighted, pulled apart and put back together. More and more questions were asked, not just of General Hammond and Jack, but also of Sam, Daniel, Teal'c and several others on the base. While the majority remained mystified about the reason for the questioning, assuming it was all part of a convoluted interview process for Jack as the new base commander, not one spoke out against the command duo of SG-1, either as a whole or as individuals.

It took over a month in total, over a month of endless meetings, countless debates–some of them heated–and questions, oh so many questions.

Finally, Jack was summoned back into that room, his dress blues crease-free, medals and shoes shined to perfection.

He stood, rather than sat.

He listened intently to what was said, waiting for that one sentence he'd been holding out for.

"On consideration, Colonel, we have decided to grant your request. On the condition that you accept the role of Brigadier General and Commander of the SGC, your marriage to Major Carter will be recognised, formalised and an exception to Air Force Instruction 36-2909 be granted and placed in your file. To that end, Major Carter's performance evaluations will be conducted by the Head of Homeworld Security and not by yourself. This will be overseen by the Joint Chiefs of Staff as appropriate. Is that understood and agreed?"

"Yes, Sirs." He fought hard to keep the grin off his face; he wasn't sure he was very successful. "Understood and agreed."

And that was that.

Jack was promoted to General. Sam, sometime later and at the say so of General Hammond, was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.

Shortly after the official Air Force related ceremonies, another was held in the private grounds of Jack's back yard. Preceded over by General Hammond, and attended by SG-1, Cassandra Fraiser and Jacob Carter, Jack and Sam were married for the sixth time, officially, willingly, and for good.

#

The ceremony was simple, intimate. Having been married five times already - six in Jack’s case - they both wanted a straightforward, traditional wedding that was recognised without a shadow of a doubt.

General Hammond had agreed to do the honours, which suited them both perfectly. They’d wanted him to play a role in their wedding, especially as he was instrumental in helping make it possible for them to be together.

A message was sent to the Tok’ra, and Jacob arrived just hours before the ceremony was due to begin. It was a rush to explain it to him - most of it, Sam opted to wait to tell him just how many times she’d accidentally married her commanding officer until after they were married with his blessing. After interrogating Jack for a good hour before the ceremony, and checking there was no way his baby girl’s career would be unfairly hampered, he and Selmac proudly walked Sam down the makeshift aisle.

Cassandra, Daniel and Teal’c were the only other attendees at the event. Though they’d debated over the people they might possibly be offending by not inviting them, they decided it was better to keep it small and just explain it was a family-only affair.

Her dress was sky blue, to complement the dress blues she’d asked him to wear. She’d considered wearing her own but Cassie had talked her out of the idea, reminding her with a smirk that “you only get married once - usually!”

There was nothing usual about them, though, and that was fine with Sam. They were what she wanted, and she was so grateful that, finally, they were what she could have. She knew Jack felt the same way, too, which made it so much sweeter. Their unspoken decision to not tell anyone about their accidental marriage on Hanandra had been a way of affirming their commitment to one another, and to a someday neither were willing to put off much longer.

They exchanged vows, the first ceremony in which they’d actually had to speak. They exchanged rings, grinning at each other like the happy newlyweds they were as they slid the simple metal bands onto each other’s finger.

And then General Hammond announced them man and wife - again, Jack was reaching for her, and they sealed their final and forever union with a lingering kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then season eight happened, but with a married and loved up Sam and Jack.


End file.
